Curse of North America
by Patient Feather
Summary: Something is going on with the three North American countries, and it's up to France, England, and Spain to figure out what it is.
1. Canada's Intro

It all started way back in 1867.

Well, actually, it was more like 1763. That was the year that France gave Canada to England as a result of the French and Indian War. It was is 1763 when Canada started to feel invisible.

England never really paid attention to him, always favoring his twin brother, America. Then, of course, America decided to rebel, tired of England's rules and the way he lived. Matthew didn't exactly mind the Revolution, not at the time. It was during that time that Arthur would cling to him, sobbing in the middle of the night about foolish Alfred and how he _just didn't understand_ and _how hard I tried to be a good parent!_

Even though Matthew knew that all the attention was only because he and Alfred looked alike, he found that he could enjoy it. In fact, those were some of his favorite memories.

Timeskip later. The year is 1812, and Alfred wanted to make Matthew one of his states.

Matthew hadn't yet tasted independence, hadn't yet felt the glorious freedom that Alfred was _constantly_ talking about. It was that fact that led him to rejecting the offer, refusing to become a state because he knew that if he did, he would never be free.

Of course, Arthur _had_ to be dragged into the matter. Before Matthew realized it, an entire war had started, with Arthur wanting to take back Alfred and Alfred wanting him and all Matthew wanted was to be left alone. It was infuriating.

The war ended so suddenly, and there wasn't really a winner. Of course, Matthew felt like he had won, as he had successfully pushed his brother away(and burned down his capital, too, but that doesn't have to be mentioned).

The year is 1821, and a new North American country emerged. Mexico, formerly New Spain, rebelled, much like Alfred and succeeded, much like Alfred. Matthew barely got to speak to her, but he could sense her sadness like an ongoing storm.

Then another new republic, in 1836. Texas was so young, she had barely survived rising against Mexico and winning. Matthew could see how weak she was, and within nine years, the child became a state for Alfred.

It was hard, watching these new countries pop up and knowing that he hadn't yet become free. Matthew never felt so invisible, never felt so _useless_ in all his life. And he tried. Whenever he got to speak to Rosa, he would try to make the Mexican smile. It was a near impossible feat. Whenever he talked to Alfred, it often ended with Matthew making pancakes(his specialty) for his brother while the American chatted his ear off about a multitude of things("Dude, I'm so scared! I mean, South Carolina already tried to secede, why must my states be so divided?"). It was tiring.

So that night, July first, 1867, Matthew sat on his bed, feeling quite triumphant. He was independent. The Dominion of Canada was the newest country, the newest independent nation.

"Why hello, Matthew."

Said nation turned, seeing a figure covered in a dark cloak.

"Who are you?" Matthew asked, panicking inside of his head. He figured that if the girl(for the voice was definitely feminine) tried to attack, he could call Kumajirou..."

The figure merely chuckled," What a _lovely_ question, my dear. However, the real question, is who are you?" With that, she snapped, and dark clouds invaded Matthew's vision.

Matthew woke up, yawning as he stretched. His bear was already awake, and staring at him with a hungry look in his eyes.

"Good morning, Kuma." The Canadian mumbled, obviously still tired. He felt like he was forgetting something... Matthew shrugged it off, deciding that it was nothing.

"Who are you?" Kumajirou asked innocently.

Matthew frowned," I'm Canada, remember?" However, the answer was spoken softly, and Matthew couldn't remember when he decided to be a quiet nation. Once again, he shrugged it off. He was a country. Nothing bad could happen, right?

Meanwhile, the cloaked girl watched from the shadows, smiling darkly.

"Oh how wrong you are, Canada," She murmured with a sadistic look in her eyes," Your troubles have only _just_ begun."


	2. America's Intro

The day England found him was the best day of his life.

It was 1607 when it happened, and Alfred would admit that if Arthur never stepped foot on his soil, his life would've been way different. But it had happened, and it had happened quickly.

Alfred grew to love Arthur, but resent the fact that he never stayed for long, always had to go back to England, always had to leave him again and _again and again._

But the child loved the elder nevertheless, and Alfred looked up to him with all of his heart.

However, things changed. Things changed very quickly. The time of the change was 1763, the end of the war that Alfred called the French and Indian War. The war in North America had been the French and the British fighting, with the Indians first fighting for the French, and then fighting for the British. France lost that war, and it resulted in Alfred's brother, Matthew, coming to live with them.

Alfred loved his brother, of course he did, but he often chose to hang out with Arthur instead, despite the fact that Matthew was his age.

However, the end of the war had other results. One of them was that Arthur was out of money. However, instead of taxing his country, he placed unfair taxes on Alfred's colonies. Acts such as the Sugar Act and the Stamp Act and the Tea Act... his people had started to rebel. One day, in fact, there was a riot, and it ended with five of _his_ citizens being murdered by British soldiers.

His citizens were infuriated. He was angry. That led to people refusing to buy tea, and then the Boston Tea Party happened, where five of his men, a group called the Sons of Liberty, dressed up like Indians and dumped tons of gallons of tea into the harbor. That was when Arthur snapped and put on the Intolerable Acts. Alfred thought that those acts were the final straw, and soon a full fledge war had started.

First were the first shots at Lexington and Concord. Bunker Hill, Saratoga... It was the Battle of Saratoga that convinced Francis to help, and with the French on their side, the colonists were stronger, strong enough to defeat the British at Yorktown.

Alfred still loved Arthur, but America no longer loved England. It was a hard fate.

Although he vaguely remembered being one of the smartest colonies Arthur had ever seen, those days were over. For some weird reason, he could no longer think straight, although that didn't really bother him.

Then there was the XYZ Affair in 1798, when the French had captured American ships and wanted a large bounty for them. Alfred refused though. No way he would pay millions of dollars for his ships! Even his people hated the idea, saying 'billions for defense but not one cent for tribute'.

In 1803 he purchased the Louisiana Territory from France(under a new leader). He sent Louis and Clark to explore it, and he loved what they had to report. Soon millions of people were traveling west, hungry for new land.

In 1812, Alfred grew tired of Arthur trying to win him back over. He also wanted his brother to become a state. When both refused his demands, another war was started. The war ended in 1814, and there was no real victory. Alfred felt like he won, though, and he could feel that his people were now prideful of their country. It made him happy.

In 1821, the girl that he had met when he joined Arthur as a pirate became a country. However, Alfred didn't recognize her. Rosa had grown cruel and harsh, and her usual expression was a scowl. He didn't like this new person, which was why in 1835-1836 he sent troops to Tejas to help her fight off Mexico. Tejas won, and Texas became a country.

However, she was in debt, and Alfred decided to offer her statehood. In 1845, she accepted. That led to arguments with Rosa, which led to a war is 1846. And in 1848, he successfully defeated her, feeling quite proud of himself. In 1849-1850, California became a state.

But tensions were rising between the North and the South, and by 1861, eleven states had seceded from the Union to form the Confederacy. 1861 was when the Civil War began. Alfred had never felt so torn in his entire life.

Thankfully the Union won in 1865, and reconstruction was happening all over the South. Slaves had been freed, and Alfred was feeling better than ever before.

The year was 1867, three days before Alfred's birthday. His brother, Matthew, had just became an independent nation, and Alfred had just called to congradulate him.

"The spell still seems to be in full effect, but I might as well recast in, since I had to cast in on Matthew and recast it on Rosa." Said a girl who's voice sounded vaguely familiar.

Alfred turned towards her, a cloaked figure nearly hidden in the shadows. However, before he could say anything, she cut him off,

"Now now. Only an idiot would have a Civil War." She scolded, but she sounded way too happy to be demanding.

Alfred felt his vision spiral before the floor rushed up at him and he lost consciousness.

And when he woke up, he remembered nothing about the night before, and he went back to being his usual idiotic self.


	3. Mexico's Intro

Her story began in the 1500's.

Actually, it began before that, but Mexico could only clearly remember 1592, when Spanish _conquistadors_ started to explore lands that she already knew by heart. It was 1592 when Rosa watched her parents, Aztec and Maya, die in front of her, slaughtered by the same Spanish man who held out his hand to her. _"It's okay, pequeño. I will be your brother, si?"_

For the first century or so Rosa was perfectly happy with that. Antonio had doted on her, loved that she had long brown curls and emerald eyes and tanned olive skin, much like he did. She looked like his nyo or something, and she loved that as much as he did. He loved how sweet and innocent she was, not yet tainted by the things that make countries hate each other so much.

Rosa even got to go with him on his pirate ship. She grew that same disliking of Arthur as Antonio did, which pleased him. However, it was then she got to talk to another little boy. Alfred was so cheery, and he seemed to love Arthur with all of his heart, and he disliked Antonio. He seemed to like her, though. He also seemed to be quite smart.

Rosa guessed things changed for him around the same time things changed for her. It was the early 1700's, and Antonio had finally brought her to his house in Spain. Not the best decision on his part.

For Antonio had another there, a little boy who introduced himself as South Italy. Rosa liked him at first(maybe a bit too much) but that was before she saw what an arrogant idiot he was. Not only did he cuss, lie, and cheat, but he refused to clean anything, instead choosing to sit back lazily and eat a tomato.

So when her older brother went out, Rosa found herself patiently cleaning the house and cooking meals. Her food was quite excellent, if she did say so herself. Antonio had showed her every spice he knew of, and soon she had grown fond of spice and now she refused to cook anything unless she had peppers in the dish. That was what earned her the nickname of _pimienta._

But did Antonio _thank_ her for doing what Lovino should've? No, he didn't. In fact, he never let Rosa explain that it was her. For some reason, he always believed that it was Lovino who did it, and Lovino always took the time to laugh at her about it. That was when Rosa started feeling resentment towards the elder child, and bitterness towards her big brother.

Then, in 1776, Alfred rebelled. Rosa felt inspired, she never had the idea of rebelling until he did. And, better yet, he _won._ He won against England, one of the superpowers of the world. If he could do it, Rosa thought, then so could she.

It was in 1821 when that finally happened. Antonio had begged, _pleaded_ with her not to go. However, her bitterness was just too great. She needed to be free, needed to live on her own without anyone stopping her.

She was independent now, her own country of Mexico. And suddenly she was in charge of five different states, five territories that were terrified of her for some reason or another. She tried to be nice. She tried to gain their love, but it never worked.

1836, Tejas, one of the biggest territories, rebelled. Rosa had to admit that Tejas was her favorite, and so she tried _so hard_ to keep her, to force her to stay so that Rosa wouldn't be lonely. It failed, and now _Texas_ was independent. Rosa didn't want to recognize it, but when she saw that Texas wanted to become a state, she panicked.

Rosa offered to recognize her sister's(for she was quite certain they were sisters) independence as long as Texas didn't become a state. But it was quite clear that Texas wanted nothing from her, and in 1845 she became a state. However, Rosa just wouldn't have it.

She started to argue with Alfred, wanting to take back Tejas from him. And, of course, she wasn't sure herself of where the boundaries lie, which meant her country didn't either. That was another thing she argued with Alfred about.

And it was 1846 when they went to war, and 1848 when Alfred had Rosa pinned to the ground, pointing a gun at her head and smiling coyly.

"Give up?"

Rosa never got the chance to say no, for Alfred had fired and all she saw was black.

Yes, she had lost, and pretty soon all the territories she had tried so hard to take care of were handed over to Alfred. California, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada...

It left Rosa alone, left her helpless. Now the world saw her as weak. Now they started to hate her, or so she thought.

She had, however, found a friend in Matthew. The Canadian was so friendly, and soon she was looking up to him as her new big brother(For Antonio had tried, but he had failed). And every year on March third, the day Tejas won her independence, Matthew would come and comfort her.

Rosa laid on her bed, thinking about her new friend. The year was 1867, and she just found out that Matthew was independent. She was happy for him, and she finally had a thoughtful smile on her face.

"Really, Rosa? How many times do I have to recast the spell on you?"

Rosa turned, seeing a figure that looked slightly familiar... she just couldn't put her finger on it. Strange.

"What do you want?" She asked, clearly annoyed.

The girl cackled," Let's hope this works this time," She replied with a laugh, not really answering Rosa's question. "Everyone hates you, Rosa, so why shouldn't you give them a reason to?"

Then Rosa could see nothing, feel nothing. And in the morning she woke up, feeling as angry and resentful as she always had (or so she thought), as if the previous day had never happened.

Author's Note

 _I'm so sorry for making Lovino seem like a bad guy! I love Romano... but I had to write this from Mexico's pov, and she thought he was evil, so... if you have any questions about any of the history in this fic in general, I would love to answer them! I know a lot about North American history... probably because I live in the U.S. XD_

 _Read and review, please!_

 _-Feather_


	4. Breaking Free

Canada gritted his teeth. He hadn't been getting a lot of sleep, he had a headache, and he was stuck in a world meeting where everyone decided to have a shouting match. Not even Germany or Switzerland's voices could be heard when they tried to silence the room.

Eventually he snapped, and he stood from his seat.

"WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT THE HELL UP?!" he yelled. The room grew silent, as his voice managed to overpower the rest. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF ALL OF YOUR USELESS CHATTER. IT'S BEEN THREE WEEKS SINCE I'VE HAD A DECENT NIGHT'S SLEEP, MY HEAD HURTS LIKE HELL, AND I DO _NOT_ WANT TO DEAL WITH ALL OF YOUR BULLSHIT! SO SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP SO THAT WE CAN GET THIS MEETING OVER WITH!"

Everyone looked surprised, but they didn't dare question the Canadian. His face was actually _white_ in his rage. He had managed to surpass Mexico's temper and America's volume.

France just gaped at his former colony. He hadn't heard the other raise his voice like that in _years_. One never realised how much they missed something like that until it's gone, and made a sudden reappearance.

But everyone did as told, and the rest of the meeting went off without a hitch, at least until lunch time.

…

England was on his way to get a cup of tea when he heard America's voice. He rolled his eyes, preparing to hear him speak rubbish about heroes and burgers and all those other things America liked to blather on about.

But when he got close enough to actually hear the words he froze. Was that really _America_ speaking?

He got close enough and saw that America was speaking to Japan and Korea about something that sounded oddly like a complicated mathematical theory. Just don't ask England what he was saying. He could speak for hours about linguistics, but numbers were not for him.

But judging by Korea and Japan's faces, America wasn't just forming words, but was actually making sense. And they both seemed as surprised and impressed in America as he was.

England smiled briefly, reminded of the little colony that would ask questions that he wasn't able to answer. Oh, how he missed that little genius.

…

Spain stormed off, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. He had just had a fight with Mexico, and she had called him an oblivious, tomato-loving pedo. It hurt when someone he was close to accused him of something like that, just because he found little kids adorable.

"Antonio, wait!"

He stopped, but only because she called him by his human name. He turned around, a bitter 'what do you want' on his lips, when he was suddenly tackled by the smaller female, her arms wrapped around him and her face against his chest.

"I'm sorry," she exclaimed. "I went too far that time. I never mean to be mean, but why am I?"

He didn't know, so he said nothing. He just stroked the brown curls as he briefly had his sweet little girl back.

…

When the break was over, everything was as it was before. Canada was once again quiet and invisible, America was an idiot and Mexico was heartless and cruel.

But France, England and Spain kept watching their former colonies, hoping to see that spark of their former selves once again and wondering, not for the first time, what had happened to change them.

…

A hooded figure lurking in the shadows sighed.

"They seem to be breaking free, even if it was just for a brief moment. Looks like I'm going to need to recast the spell _again_. Those three are just so troublesome."

 _I just want you guys to know that I did not write this, Patient did. All the credit for this chapter goes to her, and without her, I probably wouldn't have been able to write anymore for this... so you can thank her! Plus, she has much more writing experience than I do, so this chapter is probably better written._


	5. Think

The meeting had ended, and, thanks to Canada, they actually got stuff done. However, France had stayed behind. He had told Spain that he wanted to look over his notes, but in reality he wanted to think.

Canada… France missed the small colony who could talk louder than him. He missed the colony that was instantly liked by all of France's friends without saying a word.

France sighed. Obviously Canada had changed after becoming a country, but why? And how? How could a nation simply change like that? France wanted answers. Unfortunately, he couldn't just ask his son. He needed to figure it out without telling the country.

How to do that, though, France had no idea.

* * *

England paced in his hotel room, unable to stop himself. What he saw earlier with America had confused him. Yes, he knew that his colony had been smart, but him as a country had grown idiotic. Yet he still had some of that brilliance, as he had proved.

So why wasn't he always like that? What had made him become such an idiot? England didn't know. He knew that he had to figure it out soon, though, or the desire to know would kill him.

He couldn't just go and ask, though. England had read so many books that he knew if you needed to find out something about someone, asking them almost never works. Besides, if America knew why he was so dumb, surely he would try to fix it, right?

England wasn't sure, which was why he used a simple teleportation spell to transport him to a place he thought might have the answer.

His library.

* * *

Spain had attempted to talk to Mexico again, but the girl had pushed him away, a scowl on her face. He didn't understand… Mexico was so sweet as a little girl, her eyes always full of hope and wonder, a smile always lighting up her face.

Spain wondered when that had all changed. He remembered the war for independence still so clearly… it had lasted eleven years, after all. Could it be that war had changed her attitude?

No. Surely not. Spain had been in many wars, and he knew that war doesn't change the country. Especially a war for freedom, like hers had been.

So what was it? He had seen a glimpse of the little girl he had raised earlier, but it was merely a glimpse. That gave him hope, hope that she wasn't really gone, but at the same time it made him question what exactly had caused that. They fought all the time, so it wasn't that…

Then what was it?

* * *

Canada sighed as he walked into his hotel room. He had tried to go talk to some of the nations, but they had ignored him, as usual. His invisibility was in full force, and he hated it.

A whimper escaped his mouth as his head throbbed. It seemed his headache was only getting worse. He really needed some sleep.

It was that thought that had him dressed in pajamas and laying down in bed, one hand pressed against his head, the other massaging his temple.

He was so tired that he didn't quite remember anything about his outburst, or the fact that, for once, everyone had noticed him.

* * *

America was out with Prussia and Denmark, the trio deciding to go drinking to celebrate the first day of the week-long meeting. As usual, they started out by simply talking about their day.

"And I was totally talking to Japan and Korea, dudes! It was so awesome. I don't remember exactly what I was talking about, but I totally impressed them!" America blabbered, not even bothering to think about what had happened. Instead, he simply pushed the thoughts aside.

The three continued to have fun, drink beer, and be, well, awesome, and America soon forgot about the entire thing. It was like it never happened.

He didn't question the upcoming headache, and he didn't do anything about it.

* * *

Mexico slammed the door shut, seeming to be angry although she really wasn't. With a huff, she plopped herself onto her bed, deep in thought.

Why had Spain gone after her after the meeting? He seemed to have been expecting someone else, although the only person there was her. She was just being herself. Surely Spain knew that, right?

Mexico didn't know. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to remember any part of the day that might've made Spain think she was a different person. The girl frowned.

She could barely remember anything about her day. No matter how hard she thought, she could barely remember the meeting itself, let alone anything that happened during it.

She thought so hard, she could soon feel her head start to pound, and she winced.

"I hate headaches."

Figuring it was just a small headache, Mexico didn't do anything about it. Instead, she yawned and laid down, determined to get some sleep to prepare herself for the next day.

* * *

The hooded figure chuckled, her eyes watching the three figures, "Soon, this will all be over. Hopefully the spell doesn't break again… If so, then I'll have to use one last resort." With that, she disappeared, the only sign of her having been there being the magic running through each North American's veins.


	6. Distraction

The next morning, France arrived at the meeting early, eyes red from lack of sleep. How could he sleep? He had been up all night thinking about his little colony.

He took a seat, wondering where everyone else was, as normally there were a bunch of countries that came early. He supposed that they just didn't want to get up this morning... but still!

Suddenly, a chilling wind blew into the room, causing France's spine to tingle and he shivered. Blue eyes scanned the room to find the source of the wind, only to find that none of the windows were open, and besides, they were in Spain for the meeting. Spain, which was a warm country, didn't normally have chilly air. So where had the wind came from?

Then, he felt something behind him, but when he turned, nobody was there.

"You shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong," A girl's voice whispered into his ear.

The feeling went away, leaving a wide eyed Frenchman who was slightly trembling.

* * *

England had a book open, his entire body drooping from exhaustion.

He was almost positive that he was going to miss the meeting, but he didn't care. To him, finding out what was wrong with America was much more important.

So far, he hadn't found anything on it, but that was mostly because he wasn't sure what to look for. America's condition could be anything. Heck, it might not even be curable, but England had already decided that he was going to be patient.

He was so busy reading that he barely felt the sudden drop in temperature, only looking up when he realized that was at least 5 degrees Celsius in the room. He shivered.

"You're not going to find anything, you know," A chilling voice whispered, clearly feminine, "Why don't you give up?"

"Who are you?" Arthur asked, looking around to find the source of the voice.

There was a giggle, in the same, cold voice that had talked.

Then, everything was back to normal.

Arthur breathed heavily, feeling the temperature rise to what it had been. The person was gone.

And it only left Arthur more curious.

* * *

Spain leafed through a history book, briefly scanning each page before turning the page.

So far, he hadn't found anything that he needed. He had already read a Mexican culture book. Now he was reading a history book, and he _still_ couldn't find anything.

"Hmm," He mused, shutting the book and allowing himself to think, "What exactly is wrong with her? Well, she's always cruel... always has a scowl on her face. So she's always angry? But it isn't always like that... if yesterday said anything," He paused, looking around to make sure that no other nation had gone into the empty conference room that he was borrowing, "And when did this start? I know that in the eleven years it took for her to gain her independence, she was a lot meaner, but she was still friendly. But after her independence... so that was when it started!"

Green eyes widened with the knowledge that he had acquired. Spain stood up, prepared to finally make his way to the meeting.

Suddenly, the earth trembled, causing the Spaniard to stumble over his own feet. He felt a dark and mysterious presence behind him, causing shivers to run down his spine.

"What are you doing here? It's no use. You'll never find anything," A deep, masculine voice growled, seeming to come from the Earth itself.

Spain shuddered, eyes flicking around, trying to find whoever it was that spoke. However, before he really had a chance to look, the ground stopped moving. The presence was gone.

It was then that Spain realized something. He couldn't do this on his own. He needed help. _Magical_ help.

Which meant that he needed to talk to the one person he absolutely hated.

England.

* * *

Canada yawned as he headed towards the meeting room, rubbing his eyes. He wasn't sure what his problem was, but he had experienced a lack of sleep, and it was driving him crazy.

He continued down the hallway, not a care in the world. That is, until he heard something. A strange something. It sounded like running water.

But they were in the middle of a building, nowhere near the bathrooms. So where was the water coming from?

Canada wanted to find out, so he poked his head through the door of the nearest room, which turned out to be an empty room. A small trickle of water was running through the back of the room, seeming to come from the walls.

He stepped through the entryway, determined to find the source of the water.

The door slammed shut behind him, causing the blonde to spin around, reaching out for a doorknob that had disappeared.

The amount of water increased, spilling into the room, instantly covering the floor in one inch, then two inches of water.

Canada widened his eyes as the water level rose, now coming up to his knees. He began to bang on the door, hoping for a way out, hoping for someone to hear.

"Silly little boy. Nobody can hear you. Nobody knows you're in here. You're invisible." A boyish voice whispered, lightly, like the water that was now up to his waist.

Canada looked around, desperately trying to find the person who was speaking.

However, it was too late. The water started to rise more quickly, going up to his neck, and then his head. And then he couldn't swim, couldn't breathe.

His vision blurred, then went black, and he passed out.

* * *

America sat in the conference room, happily chatting with some of his friends. However, something felt off.

"Hey, will you excuse me, guys? I need some air."

He walked outside, taking a deep breath. He felt eyes on him, but he figured it was just a nation that was arriving late. It had happened before.

"Hello, Mister."

A boy appeared out of nowhere, with spiky, black hair and bright amber eyes. He was grinning.

"Who are you?" America asked, confused.

The boy shrugged, "Say, Mister, I have a riddle. No man has ever solved it. Do you want to give it a try?"

America thought about it, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

"Okay. There was a green house. Inside of the green house is a white house. Inside of the white house there is a red house. Inside the red house there are a lot of little babies. What is it?"

America frowned, confused. He tried to think, but it was like his brain was blocked. He just couldn't think of the answer.

"Time's up." The boy grinned again, but this time, there was something... _wicked_ in the smile.

Before America could react, flames shot up around him, coming from nowhere. He couldn't move. It was like he was paralyzed. So he stood there as the flames started to eat away at his clothes.

Right before the heat became too much, he heard the boy whisper, "The answer was a watermelon." And then, nothing.

* * *

Mexico was wandering the halls, a blank look on her face. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing, as nobody had told her the time of the meeting, so she decided that she might as well not show up. Nobody would care, right?

As she was walking, a dark feeling came over her, as if someone was watching her. She didn't like it.

"Hello there, Mexico."

Mexico spun around, dark green eyes scanning her visitor. It was a girl, rather young looking, with pure white hair and bright red eyes. She was wearing a circlet of rubies on her head, and a flowing black dress that made her eyes stand out.

"Who are you?" Mexico asked, crossing her arms.

The girl chuckled.

"Someone that everyone's afraid of," she answered.

"Okay... Wait, how did you know who I was?"

"Isn't it obvious? You're the one that everyone hates. Of course I know who you are."

The girl smirked, also crossing her arms.

"Not everyone hates me," Mexico protested.

"Oh really? I think you're wrong."

The girl's words caused Mexico to pause, and think. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure about herself. Maybe this... this _child_ was right.

As if the girl read her mind, she smiled sweetly and pulled out a knife, "You're in so much pain, so why don't you just end it?"

It took all of Mexico's willpower to step backwards.

"I'm not killing myself."

"So you're afraid of me, too."

Before Mexico could process her sentence, the girl lunged forward, and Mexico's vision went black.

* * *

The three North Americans were later found, in three different locations.

Canada was found in an empty storeroom. He seemed to be completely waterlogged.

America was found in the parking lot, with horrible burns covering his body.

Mexico was found in one of the many hallways, with a puncture wound to her chest.

Luckily, they survived whatever it was that attacked them. It was a miracle.

However, their colonizers weren't so happy. They didn't mention their own experience.

Something was happening, and they were determined to find out what.


	7. More Info

_This is a bit early, as I'm publishing it instead of Patient, but consider it my Christmas present to you all!_

France walked into the restaurant, his mind elsewhere. After Canada, America, and Mexico were found, obviously attacked, he was on his feet. If his suspicions were correct, then the same person that came to him attacked them, and that made the blonde angry. Very angry.

Luckily, he was not in this alone.

England was waiting for him in a booth, a scowl on his face. Across from England sat Spain, who was reading a book and did not notice him coming.

"Bonjour, mon ami," France greeted the Spaniard, seeming to ignore the other person.

"Hola," Spain gave him a weary smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

England cleared his throat, causing France to look over at him before sliding into the seat next to Spain.

"So..." Spain started.

"Before we start anything, did anyone else have something... strange happen to you yesterday?" France asked.

"When I was in the library, the temperature dropped. And someone talked to me... a girl. But I couldn't find her." England muttered softly, a distracted look crossing his face.

"I was walking to the meeting, and the ground shook, like an earthquake. And a guy talked to me as well," Spain added.

France nodded, " The same happened to me, but it was a gust of wind. And it was a girl that talked to me."

"Isn't it strange that we all got visited by creatures, most likely spirits, the same day that our colonies were attacked? I don't think it's a coincidence," England put out, looking at the two others.

"Well... before the 'spirit' talked to me, I was doing some research on... well..." Spain's voice faded away as he realized how weird it was going to sound.

"Let me guess. You were researching Mexico," England deadpanned.

Spain looked over at him, eyes wide, "How did you know?"

"It would make sense," The Brit admitted.

"Why?" France asked, not sure who he was asking.

"Well, yesterday, I noticed something. America. He was... talking mathematics, and actually _making sense._ I was beyond shocked."

"Canada was rather loud. He actually managed to be seen," France said, thinking back to the other day.

"And Mexico... she and I fought, she said some harsh words, I left, and she... she ran after me, hugged me, and _apologized._ She never does that!" Spain exclaimed, suddenly remembering the information he had found out that day, "That's why I was reading some stuff on her history, I wanted to see when she changed. It seems that she got, well, cold, _after_ her independence. She used to be really friendly, and very sweet, until she became a country. How strange is that?"

England paused, thinking about what Spain had said, "Well... America was pretty smart once, when he was a colony. But... okay, that is strange. He changed after his independence."

"I wouldn't know if Canada changed after his independence. I wasn't there," France murmured, his words obviously aiming to hurt England.

The blonde crossed his arms, glaring at the Frenchman, "Okay... yeah, he did change after I gave him independence."

The three all looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Well, I'm going to check on Mexico. I'm scared that she may not recover," Spain admitted, standing up.

"I think I will check on Canada as well." France also stood up, allowing the brunette to leave.

England sighed, "And I guess I'll go see how America's doing." He grumbled.

* * *

 _The river roared, white with foam, as it crashed down on the helpless rocks, causing waves to lap onto the land. Any animal in the area was running away as the river grew stronger and stronger, more and more water coming down over the falls._

 _Matthew was paralyzed, watching the water level rise as tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn't want this. He just wanted to be free._

 _However, the water just kept coming, and coming, and coming..._

Canada awoke with a gasp, his eyes wide with panic. He grasped the sheets, desperately trying to breathe as he came back to reality. Slowly, he realized that someone was there with him, stroking his back, holding him upright.

"Canada..."

Finally, the blonde was able to see, and he blinked once. France was sitting next to him, holding him with a worried look on his face.

"Wha...?"

"You're safe now, you're okay." France murmured.

"What happened?" Canada asked, rubbing his head.

"I was hoping you could tell me," France chuckled softly, "We found you, unconscious, in one of the meeting rooms."

Canada closed his eyes in thought, before shaking his head, "No... I don't remember..."

France frowned, "Well, you're here now. I don't know what happened to you, but you need your rest."

Canada nodded before yawning, and leaning against his former caretaker, allowing himself to sleep.

* * *

America groaned. All he could feel was pain, sharp, burning pain, all over his body.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he groaned again, not bothering to open his eyes as he pushed the hand away.

"America... Alfred, wake up."

America opened his eyes, looking up at the speaker. To his surprise, it was England.

"What do you want?" He asked, unable to keep the pain out of his voice.

"I came to check on you. You were burned pretty badly." England muttered, seeming to hover over the American.

He blinked, "Is that why it hurts so much?"

England nodded.

America rubbed his head, thinking, "What happened? I can't remember anything..."

"I don't know."

America attempted to bury his head in the pillow, trying to block out the pain. He was aware of England saying something, but he couldn't hear it, and, eventually, he fell into a deep sleep once again.

* * *

Mexico woke to a sudden, sharp pain.

Her eyes opened and widened, her breath coming in sharp gasps. For a minute, all she could see was blinding white.

However, after what felt like hours, the light dimmed, and she blinked repeatedly, allowing her eyes to adjust.

Spain was standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed. His green eyes, just a shade lighter than hers, were focused on her, filled with worry.

"España?" She asked, her voice merely a whisper, "What happened?"

"You were stabbed. I found you in the hallway, unconscious," Spain answered, his voice soft, "What happened?"

"I... I... I don't know," Mexico admitted. She sat up only to gasp in pain and fall backwards, causing the Spaniard to dash towards her.

"You need to stay in bed, and rest. If you were a normal human, you would've been killed!" Spain murmured, perching on the bed next to her.

Mexico only frowned, taking a deep breath and allowing Spain to run a hand through her hair.

She was still unsure about the whole thing, though, and she fell into thought, her eyelids growing heavy as she started to fall asleep.

* * *

Seven people stood in a room, six of them focused on the seventh, who seemed to be the leader.

"Things seem to be going well," The white haired girl said.

The black haired boy scoffed, "Are you kidding, Angel?"

"France, England and Spain know too much," The other white haired girl put out.

"And they keep breaking free," Added the blonde girl.

"Everyone, please, be quiet. I'm trying to concentrate," The leader muttered, causing several glares headed her way.

"How do we know you can fix this?" Asked the blonde suspiciously, "How do we do you have enough power?"

"I wouldn't say that if I were you," The brown haired boy warned.

The leader glared at the blonde, "I have enough. None of you have to worry. All is going to plan." A smirk formed on her lips, and they all faded into the shadows.


	8. Too Much

France sighed as Canada fell back asleep. To him, it was one less thing to worry about, as he had a million other things on his mind.

However, whatever relief he was feeling didn't last long, as that cold wind was back, breathing down his spine.

He spun around, eyes narrowing at what he saw.

It was a girl.

She seemed to be in her late teens, with windblown, light blonde hair and bright, cloudy blue eyes.

The first thing he noticed about her was her grin. It had a touch of cruelty, and it chilled him more than the wind.

The second thing he noticed was that her feet were not quite touching the ground. She seemed to be hovering a mere inch above it.

"Who are you?" France asked, taking a short step backwards.

"They call me Fay. Honestly, I'm not fond of the name, although I suppose it's better than something stupid, like Breeze. I'm the only one with a name that doesn't have anyhhing to do with who I am." Fay kept smiling, although her expression kept growing darker and darker. "So, to truly answer your question, I am the keeper of the winds."

"Why are you here? What are you doing?"

The girl sighed, "Do you think I can answer that? Unfortunately, I'm not the leader. But," she smiled wider, once again causing France to take a step backwards, "I can tell you that you won't like it."

With a snap of her fingers, the light wind grew stronger, and it whirled around France and the sleeping Canada, faster and faster and faster, until France could no longer see, and his vision went black.

England sighed, preparing himself to walk out the door. America needed time to heal, and he was prepared to give it to him.

However, fate had other plans for him.

Once again, the temperature plummeted, causing the Brit to shiver. He glanced around, looking for the cause of the sudden change.

And he found a girl.

She was standing by the door, watching him with a cold look in her pale, icy blue eyes. Her hair was white, and the hair that framed her face was pulled up to make a single pony tail at the back of her head. Her skin was deathly pale.

"Hello, England. My name is Icy. Isn't it fitting?" She didn't even smile.

"What are you doing here?" England asked, noticing the slight transparency of her skin. She was a spirit.

Icy sighed, "You see, Mother gave us orders. And we always listen to what Mother says."

Before England could ask who Mother was, Icy snapped her fingers.

All of a sudden, snow started to fall into the room, quickly filling it up.

England backed up to the bed before closing his eyes as the snow covered his head.

When Canada awoke, he found that he was no longer in his hospital room. In fact, he wasn't sure where he was.

It seemed to be a dark room, with one torch hanging near the doorway for light. There was someone else in there with him.

Canada focused on the figure.

It was a boy, with elegant features and sleek, shiny black hair that was nearly to his shoulders. His eyes were a sea green.

"Where am I?" Canada managed to ask, although his voice came out in a mere whisper.

"Somewhere nobody will find you." Answered the boy.

"Who are you?"

The boy chuckled, "I heard that you get that question a lot. My name is River."

All of a sudden, forgotten memories of the near-death experience rushed back to him, and he gasped.

"You tried to kill me." It wasn't a question.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. The point is, you're lucky. I'm probably the nicest of them all," River looked down at the pale Canadian.

"How many-"

"Seven." River cut him off, "There are seven of us. They call us the Seven Deadly Spirits. But, already, I've given you too much information. Don't worry. You're safe... for now. Leader wants me to play a game with you. The game is called 'Find your Sibling'," River slightly smirked, "You have 24 hours to try and escape this room, find your 'Papa', and leave. If you fail, well... let's just say that my sister, Icy, and Leader are exceptionally cruel. They have this all planned out, and both of them love torture."

Canada shuddered at the thought.

"Your time starts... now. Good luck."

America blinked his eyes open.

Last he remembered, he was in a hospital room. Now... he seemed to be in some sort of cageless prison.

"Hello, America!"

A small boy grinned down at him, amber eyes gleaming. His dark hair blended in with the dark walls.

"You..." America frowned. "You tried to kill me!"

"No... you didn't answer my riddle." The boy laughed, "They call me Flame. I'm the fun one."

"The... fun one?"

"Sure! Leader's the smart one, Wind's the sassy one, Earth's the tough one, Water's the nice one, Ice is the cruel one, which is funny, considering Water and Ice are twins, and Death is the odd one! Who else would I be?" Flame asked.

America blinked once, lost.

"Guess what! You have an entire day to find England and get out of here, or else Leader will do her thing, and you really don't want her to do her thing!"

"What?"

"Good luck!"

With that, the boy was gone, leaving a rather confused America.

Mexico opened her eyes, taking in her new surroundings.

The room was practically black, or a very dark red. There was an open doorway, but it seemed to have some sort of trap on it. Strange.

She sat up, slightly grimacing, before she noticed the girl's presence.

It was the same girl that had ran into her in the hallway. Now Mexico remembered.

"You again?" She asked.

"Me. Have you figured out who I am yet, Mexico?" The girl asked.

Mexico nodded.

"You're Death."

"Correct. They call me Angel."

"Odd name."

There was a period of silence, where green eyes never left red. It was Angel who spoke next.

"So. You have a full 24 hours to find Spain and get out of this place."

"And if I don't?"

"Simple. He probably will be tortured. You... I'm not sure what will happen to you, but it won't be pleasant. Leader's cold like that."

"Oh, fun," Mexico said sarcastically. She leaned back against the wall, already trying to think of ways to get herself out of there.

"Good luck."

Spain didn't remember leaving Mexico's hospital room.

He remembered turning to leave, to let her rest, but his next memory was awaking in a black room. Standing in the room was two figures. One was male. The other was cloaked.

The male approached him. He had dark brown hair and deep brown eyes.

"We meet again. I told you to stop meddling." The boy told Spain.

Spain immediately recognized the voice.

"You came to me yesterday."

"Correct."

"Who's your friend?" Spain asked, referring to the cloaked figure.

A laugh came from the person, clearly feminine, "The others call me Leader."

Her cloak fell away, revealing an eighteen year old girl(at least it looked like it) with short, spiky black hair and bright, electric blue eyes. She grinned wickedly.

"However, you may call me Sparky. You see, Spain, I've been watching you. You're _too_ smart. I may let the other two survive, but there's no way I can let you live." She gave another smile.

"What?" Spain asked.

"So... you get to experience first hand how it feels to be tortured magically. Don't worry, it's sure to be... electrifying." Sparky looked insane.

Spain mentally prepared himself when the first bolt hit him, and he couldn't stop the screams.

 _Dun dun dun! So, how do you like the spirits? Which one is your favorite? I love writing Sparky, but Angel is mine... comment on who is yours, please? Basically, to get the spirits, I took six natural things that have a habit of killing people(storms, fire, tornadoes, blizzards, floods, earthquakes) and added Death itself to the mix, and voila! I'm not sure why I chose the personalities the way I did, but don't worry. By the time I'm done with the spirits, you'll know them pretty well._

 _-Feather_


	9. Smart

_I'm going to do something a little differently for this chapter._

Spain's entire body trembled.

He had figured out where Sparky got her name. Apparently, she quite loved using lightning and electric shocks.

"This is what you get for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

Speak of the devil... Spain closed his eyes, grimacing when Sparky once again sent an electric shock down his body.

"Open your eyes," She commanded.

He opened them, trying hard not to let the pain show through the green orbs.

"Having fun?" Sparky taunted.

Spain refused to answer her, which elicited a sigh from the black haired spirit, "Well, this is getting boring. I can't kill you, but I need you out of the way..." Her hand glowed a bright blue.

Spain closed his eyes, preparing for the inevitable curse.

* * *

Mexico frowned as she examined her doorway. She still couldn't figure out how to get through it. She couldn't walk through, there wasn't a door or a lock...

She gave a frustrated sigh, kicking the wall and grimacing.

However, her next move was pure accident.

"I suppose you're magic, aren't you? Just great. Just perfect!" The words were followed with a sarcastic smile.

However, the doorway stopped glowing, and Mexico stuck a hand through it, just to be safe. It was clear. By smiling at the door, she had deactivated the enchantments.

Taking no time to ask herself why that had worked, the Hispanic girl leaped out of the room, racing down the hallway to rescue the _idiota_ that was related to her.

She had nearly given up when she heard a slightly familiar voice, which caused her to look up into another doorless room.

 _Spain's in trouble._

She wasn't sure what had gotten into her, but she thrust herself through the door , her feet flying as she pushed out, knocking Spain out of the way.

The last thing she remembered was a burst of magical energy knocking her down, and then, nothing.

* * *

Canada paced around his room, frustrated and angry. He needed to rescue France, and quickly, too, but he couldn't figure out how to even get through his door.

"Come on," He hissed, his anger growing, "I need to save my Papa, so open!"

When that didn't work, he growled, slightly wondering why he was getting so angry. However, that thought went away when he heard River's voice whisper,

"You only have two hours left, Canada. You better hurry."

That was what made him snap.

"I FUCKING GIVE UP! I GIVE UP! YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO OPEN, SO WHAT'S THE FUCKING POINT?" He screamed.

Suddenly, the door hummed and slid open, revealing the dark hallway.

Canada blinked, "I... didn't think that would work."

With that, he dashed through the door, prepared to save his former guardian.

* * *

France stared blankly at the wall.

He wasn't sure how long he had been in that blank room, but it felt like days. After Fay had transported him and Canada here, he had woken up inside this room.

The only true thing that worried him was that, somewhere, Fay was torturing Canada. After all, although they had been transported together, they had been separated. He hoped that Canada was okay.

He wondered what time it was, and what was going on. Time seemed to pass very slowly, but he wasn't sure, and it drove him crazy.

He was so deep in thought, that he didn't hear the door open, didn't notice the second person until a hand tugged at his arm, causing him to look up.

"Canada?" He asked, softly,

His son smiled back at him, "Come on. We have two hours to get out of here. Let's not waste it."

France nodded and shakily got to his feet, allowing the younger nation to pull him along.

* * *

America checked the little box again.

After Flame had left him, he had left a small box that apparently opened the door, if only America could figure out how to get it open.

All he knew was that it didn't require strength, as he had tried several ways of opening it without success.

Anger was steadily making its way through him, but he tried to push it away, attempting to clear his mind.

Suddenly, a new solution popped into his head. He gingerly placed two fingers on opposites edges of the same side of the box and lightly pushed it. The box opened.

Feeling accomplished, America waited for the door to completely open before darting out, determined to be the hero that he was always claiming to be.

He took one last look behind him, mentally trying to figure out how he knew how to even open the box, then he shook his head and started to run down the dark corridors.

After several twists and turns, he found a door marked with a very small emerald, which he immediately threw open.

Sure enough, England was laying in the middle of the room. He seemed to be resigned to the fact that America wouldn't be coming, which slightly irritated the teen.

"Hey, Iggy. Guess I'm your hero, huh?"

England opened his eyes, blinking, "America?"

"Come on. Something tells me that one of my neighbors is in danger."

* * *

England followed America out the door and down the long, dark corridors that marked the spirits' home. The American seemed to know what he was doing as he led his colonizer through the maze.

It was luck, England thought, that they ran into two familiar blondes.

"Mattie!"

As America hugged his brother, England glared at France, realizing that the frog looked just as weary as him.

However, before he could say anything, Canada pulled out of the hug, looking frantic.

"France and I have been scouring this maze for what feels like hours, and we still can't find Mex or Spain," He told the two, obviously worried for the Mexican.

England shrugged. He and Spain have always been rivals, and he had never been fond of Mexico. However, it was obvious that America was going to side with his brother.

As if reading his mind, America nodded, "I passed a door on the way to get Iggy that might have been it. Follow me!"

The two North American's raced down one hallway, with the two elder men having no choice but to follow.

* * *

Angel frowned.

She was watching the playthings from a magic sphere that Sparky had conjured, and she wasn't sure if she liked what was going on.

"I hate being the youngest. Sparky _never_ tells me anything."

"Don't worry too much," Came a voice from behind.

Angel turned around to look at Icy.

The white-haired spirit merely shrugged, "Sparky always has a plan. She wouldn't have made it so easy if she didn't want them to escape."

* * *

 _I'm so sorry for how late this is! I had massive writer's block... Plus, I've been busy for the past two months or so. Seriously. I haven't had a break, but that doesn't excuse the fact that this chapter is nearly two months late._


	10. Escape

_This chapter is entirely in Spain's point of view. Just warning you XD_

Spain had his eyes closed, waiting for the strike.

However, when it didn't come, he opened one eye, wanting to know why Sparky had not yet hit him. And his eyes widened when he saw the scene that lay before him.

Sparky's electric blue eyes were slightly widened, her arms out and slightly buzzing. She seemed to be taken by surprise by something. But that wasn't what caught the Spaniard's attention.

No, what he was focused on was the brunette sprawled across the floor, eyes closed.

"Rosa!"

Sparky, recovering from her shock, laughed, "Foolish girl. So desperate to save the one person she hates the most. What a child."

Spain didn't react to her words. Instead, he sat up, winced, and gently scooped the Mexican into his arms.

"What did you do to her?" He demanded, his voice coming out slightly raspy from the electric shocks he had received.

Sparky shrugged innocently.

Spain bit his lip and looked back down at his former colony. Other than the slight rise and fall of her chest, there was no sign that she was alive.

"I didn't want to cast a spell on her," Sparky mused, "However... I can _still_ do something to you, España." She sounded amused.

Right as the palm of her hand started glowing again, the door, which Sparky had closed, was slammed open, revealing Canada and America, their colonizers in tow.

Sparky glared at them before giving a fake smile, "Oh well. It's not like I need to do anything. I have seen enough. Goodbye, North Americans."

With that, she disappeared in a puff of blue dust.

Canada immediately ran over to Spain, "Maple, what happened to her?" He asked.

Spain hung his head, one hand brushing Mexico's brown curls, "It's my fault," He confessed, "Sparky was about to curse me, but she stepped in."

"A curse, huh..."

All eyes were on the Brit, who had just spoken.

England's eyes were only slightly open, his lips moving soundlessly.

"Um, Iggy?" America poked England's cheek.

The touch was enough to snap the blonde out of whatever trance he was in, green eyes glancing at his former charge.

"We only have a couple of hours left," Canada mumbled, his eyes wandering in different directions, "Should we try to get out of here?"

"Probably," America agreed.

Spain sighed, and he stood up, carefully scooping his former colony into his arms. She was a lot lighter than he expected, almost as if she hadn't eaten in several days.

He also noticed that France hadn't said anything in the past couple of minutes. He met eyes with his friend, and barely caught the faraway, almost dull look in those cerulean eyes.

Something happened to him in those hours of being in a cell, Spain decided. And whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Canada began to lead the way, through a series of twists and turns, with America hot on his tail. England was behind Spain, probably making sure none of the spirits were following them. France walked beside Spain, his eyes focused on the ground.

It gave Spain time to think. Sparky had mentioned that she "had seen enough", enough to allow them to leave. And... He had this strange feeling, almost as if the spirits were merely playing with them. After all, he felt like they could do much more than they did. It was as if they wanted the group to escape.

And speaking of escape...

"We're here."

Spain glanced up, sending a prayer of thanks when he saw the

deep blue skies, along with the black exterior of the hotel they were staying at.

A few mumbled excuses and elevator rides later, all six of them were gathered in England's room. Spain gently set Mexico down, seeing that she was still unconscious.

"What do we do now?" America asked, pacing the room. Ever since before they were sent to that place, his eyes were almost always focused, as if he were in deep thought. It was different, unusual, but oddly satisfying.

Canada, too, seemed changed, almost as if he wasn't afraid to speak his mind. Whenever he did speak, it was much louder than usual, with a lot more confidence.

Spain imagined that, if Mexico were to wake up, he would see not the country he had grown used to, but the colony he had found.

He realized that America and Canada were both looking at him, and that France was hovering over his shoulder, most likely worried.

"England... What should I do?" Spain asked, his focus never shifting.

"Well... This may sound cliche, but true love's kiss normally breaks any curse." Came the reply.

Spain bit his lip, "But Mexico doesn't love anybody!"

"But you love her, oui?" France spoke up.

"Well..."

Spain sighed, crossing his fingers as he leaned down. He hoped France was right...

And he kissed her.

 _Aaand another cliffhanger! I'm sorry guys... I'm also sorry about how short this chapter is. I have had so much to do... Luckily._ _school's out for me, so I should be able to update mor_ _e..._

 _Next chapter is sadly the last... But don't_ _worry! This is only part one of a series. And, yes, I know it ended really quickly. There is a reason for that! The epilogue shouldn't take me forever to write like this one did... Peace!_


	11. Epilogue

Everything was back to normal.

Or, at least, England felt like it was.

The kiss had worked, but only partially. Apparently, brotherly love wasn't strong enough to break the spell completely. Instead, Mexico would have spells, where she would nod off again, only to have Spain have to kiss her. Again. Luckily, it didn't happen very often, but it could be annoying sometimes.

He hadn't seen a reappearance of the spirits, but he had a strange feeling that they would be back.

The biggest change, though, was the breaking of the curse.

England couldn't believe the difference in the three. It was as if there were three completely new people.

Canada was never mistaken for America, and he was never forgotten, either. He was loud enough to be heard throughout the entire building.

America never had any 'stupid' ideas anymore. In fact, he always used logic to win arguments easily.

Mexico had stopped snapping at people, and she and America didn't argue as much. She smiled a lot, too.

Yes, everything was, for the most part, back to normal.

* * *

Canada shivered. It was as if somebody had opened a window.

* * *

Latvia had a sudden tingling sensation, like putting his fingertips in water.

* * *

Romano flinched. He suddenly felt hot, very hot.

* * *

Iceland, on the other hand, felt cold, extremely cold.

* * *

Switzerland tripped. Over a rock. That appeared out of nowhere.

* * *

Mexico felt a dark sensation, as if somebody was sucking the life right out of her.

* * *

Poland felt his fingers tingle, and his hair started to frizz.

* * *

"Hearts of the lonely. What a tasty treat," Sparky laughed, "This should be interesting indeed."


End file.
